A Daring Faith in a Cowardly World: Live a Life Without Waste, Regret, or Anything Unfinished

By Ken Harrison

Are you ready to stop wasting time and start turning your mundane life into one of adventure and blessing? Ken Harrison, Chairman and CEO of Promise Keepers, masterfully weaves together powerful stories and deep truths from Scripture to point you to the life for which God has called you.

Ask Christians what they expect to happen to them after they die, and most will say they will go to heaven. And they’ll probably say that they will meet Jesus and hope to hear Him say, “Well done good and faithful servant.” But many believers know they are not living up to God’s calling on their lives. In fact, many might even admit their lives don’t honor God at all—at least Mondays through Saturdays.  

In A Daring Faith in a Cowardly World, Ken Harrison masterfully uses his stories as a Los Angeles police officer in one of the deadliest areas of the country to explain and illustrate deep truths from God’s Word. This isn’t your typical inspirational book—it’s a hard-hitting work that packs a lot of truth into an easy-to-read page-turner. Each chapter starts and ends with a gripping story that has a twist, a “rest of the story” at the end of the chapter, and packs intense biblical truth and wisdom in the middle. You will:

• Have a clear picture of what being a true follower of Christ looks like and how to become one
• Gain insightful truths that lead to genuine “Aha!” moments in your life
• Experience stories you won’t forget and that create a lasting change to your faith
• Learn what the Bible says about the myriad of issues in today's culture

 

Are you ready to take the first step towards a more courageous and bold life lived in Jesus? In A Daring Faith in a Cowardly World, find the motivation you’ve been longing for.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thomas Nelson
• Release date: Jun 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9780785290780

Ken Harrison

Ken Harrison is the volunteer chairman & CEO of Promise Keepers, where he works to inspire men to be bold, faithful, and godly fathers and husbands. He is also the CEO of WaterStone, which helps Christian donors give away $2 million weekly for God's Kingdom. An author and speaker, Harrison has appeared on numerous media outlets including "Dr. James Dobson's Family Talk," The 700 Club, Fox News, The Blaze TV, OANN, and The Huckabee Show. With a long record of dedicated service to ministry, Harrison has preached in high-risk areas of countries such as Mexico, South Africa, Haiti, and the Philippines. He started his career as a Los Angeles police officer, where he received numerous commendations and awards. Then, he spent two decades building a commercial real estate business, which he sold to the second largest commercial real estate company in the world. During that time, he's been a Colson Fellow and served on numerous local and national boards, including FCA, Colorado Uplift, Urban Youth Ministries, Corban University and WaterStone. Harrison has been married to his high school sweetheart, Elliette, for over three decades. They currently reside in Colorado, and they have three adult children all serving the Lord. He is author of Rise of the Servant Kings: What the Bible Says About Being a Man and now A Daring Faith in a Cowardly World. Both books were born out of the hard-won lessons he's learned as a husband, father, police officer, and successful international businessman. He hopes his experience can encourage others as they seek to live boldly for Christ and family.

Book preview

PREFACE

WHAT’S THE POINT OF IT ALL?

I OFTEN WONDERED WHAT THE POINT WAS. THE POINT OF dying to self, giving to the poor, standing for justice—even when it cost me. I’d been raised in the church with some good Bible teaching, but my understanding of the Christian life was severely lacking. What I understood was that Jesus sacrificed it all on the cross to save us from our sins, and we had nothing to do with it. This is true, but the teaching also seemed to imply that there was nothing to do after our salvation. I was told that our righteousness was like filthy rags—also true. Yet Jesus makes all kinds of demands of us after we’re saved. If He did it all on the cross and our righteousness is like filthy rags, why does He make demands of us that seem impossible?

At the age of twelve, I started diligently reading the Bible to find the answers my teachers couldn’t give. Why did Jesus tell Nicodemus all he needed to do to be saved was believe, but He told the rich young ruler to give away all his money if he wanted to inherit eternal life? Why does Jesus say that whoever believes in Him will not perish (John 3:16) but then says, Those of you who do not give up everything you have cannot be my disciples (Luke 14:33 NIV)? Why did Paul say in Romans 2 that God will repay each person for what he or she has done, that those who have persisted in doing good works will receive eternal life, but then spent the next several chapters explaining that salvation has nothing to do with works?

What’s the point of the Christian life? If we’re all going to the same place in heaven or the same place in hell, why did Paul go through so much misery to spread the gospel? He was beaten, tortured, stoned, imprisoned multiple times, often hungry and cold . . . Why did he go through so much if he was only going to receive the same as the person who did nothing? If the worldly Christian who lived only for himself ends up with the same eternity as those who were burned alive for the gospel, why would people like Hudson Taylor, Mother Teresa, Thomas Aquinas, and Martin Luther all suffer great misery to spread the good news of Jesus? How does that line up with the statements of Jesus about giving up all?

The fact is we have the chance to reign with God forever, to be coheirs with Jesus Christ, and to have close communion with our loving Father both in this life and the next. That depends on what we do after we’re saved. Good works have no value for our salvation because we’re dead in our sins. We can be saved only by God’s grace through faith, and even the faith we exercise is a gift from Him. But the moment we’re saved and filled with His Spirit, we’re alive, and then what we do matters greatly.

This book is designed to be an encouragement to you to stay the course, persevere through the trials, and patiently wait on the Lord, for the reward is great to all who are passionate for the things of God. It’s hard. Father knows it, and He is there to help us along the way. Let’s dig in to how we grow in holiness so that we can experience the fullness of everything God gave us the day He walked out of that grave.

PART 1

CALLED TO A DARING FAITH

1

WHAT WILL WE TELL JESUS WE DID WITH OUR LIVES?

For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each of us may receive what is due us for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad.

2 CORINTHIANS 5:10 NIV

Too many Christians are more concerned with God’s kingdom to come than they are about the one that’s here right now. Why are we so concerned about what Satan is going to do in the end times? We should be thinking about what God’s going to do—through us! If we would just lose ourselves in His kingdom purposes, we could change the world!

JAMES ROBISON¹

IN 1997 I GOT HIT BY A WAVERUNNER. THE IMPACT THREW me several yards from the jet ski I was on, breaking most of the ribs on my right side and rupturing some organs. Through the fog in my brain, I was still able to process that if I passed out in the water, even with a life vest on, I’d drown. Somehow I climbed around the lip of the jet ski and waited to pass out.

When my friends got me to the emergency room, I told the nurse, I’ve been hit by a WaveRunner! I’m bleeding internally, and I might be dying. She didn’t take me seriously, ordering me to sit down and fill out forms. I watched people with bumps and bruises called in before me as I started to feel dizzy from loss of blood. After a while I walked back up and said, I’m bleeding internally and might be dying. She rewarded me with more forms.

After a half hour or so, I was led back to a doctor, who felt around my ribs, asking what happened. As I told him and winced in pain, he screamed, This man is bleeding internally! He’s dying on my table!

This is what I’ve been telling you people, I said. I might have been about to die, but I wasn’t going to let the opportunity for a good Told you so! pass.

They ushered me in for a CAT scan, accidentally dropping me from one gurney to another, causing me to pass out from the pain. When I came to, the young doctor, who had the bedside manner of George Patton, said, Look, dude, here’s the deal. You ruptured your liver. We’re going to take a look at this scan. If you damaged less than forty percent, we’ll life flight you to a trauma hospital and cut it out, but it’ll grow back. If you ruptured more than forty percent, you’ve got about five hours until you’re dead.

How will I die? I asked.

What do you mean? he asked. You won’t have a liver.

Yeah, but what kills me? What will I feel?

Oh, he said, your body will poison itself. He walked out and I didn’t see him for an hour.

It was quite an hour, lying on the gurney, wondering if I felt my body poisoning itself, unable to filter out the toxins. Mostly, though, a thought struck me deep and hard. What would I say to Jesus when I was standing in front of Him? Wondering that in theory is one thing; wondering it when it may be four hours away is another.

It was a strange experience because I’d faced death so often as a Los Angeles police officer but always in a flood of adrenaline. It had been gunfire, screaming, bravado, blood. Afterward, we’d all gather around and recount the story and laugh at one another. Facing death lying in a hospital bed as pain pierced the shock was different. It was a time of deep introspection, and my thoughts centered on being judged by Christ. There was no bravado. No one was gathering around in a couple of hours to recount the story and nominate anyone for an award. I’d been hit by a WaveRunner and might soon be dead. That was it. The gift of life might soon be over. What had I done with that gift?

The verse that starts this chapter says we’ll stand before the judgment seat of Christ. This judgment seat of Christ was not part of my biblical education. I don’t recall ever being taught about it. In fact, works don’t matter had been pounded into my head. I’d been taught that one’s works were only proof of being saved, but they didn’t matter. Everything one did was filthy rags, so why try?

Interestingly, though, I had been a boy and young man of Scripture. I had disciplined myself to read three chapters of the Bible every day since the age of twelve. I knew the Bible extremely well. Since I know the Bible, when the matter of death and eternity was staring me in the face, my thoughts weren’t on doctrine; they were on what I’d read in Scripture. Romans 2:6 kept pounding through my head: He will repay each one according to his works. I knew then and there that my works did matter. Not for salvation, which is by grace alone, but for the status and place in eternity.

As I faced what might be impending death, the only thought on my mind was this: When Jesus asks what I did with what He gave me, what will I say? I was thirty years old and had no answer. I was a good guy. I never cheated on my wife. I was a police officer. That rang hollow. I’d been immersed in the Bible since the age of twelve, had gone to Christian schools and colleges—but what difference had my time on earth made? Who had been blessed? Who’d been fed? Who would point at me and say that their life had been changed because of me? No one.

The young doctor walked in with a grin. Good news, dude. You ruptured your kidney and only lacerated your liver, so you’re cool.

That’s good news? I asked.

Well, yeah, you’ve got two kidneys, sooo . . . And your lung is ruptured, too, and you broke a bunch of ribs.

Will my lung and kidney and liver heal? How many ribs did I break?

He looked thoughtful for a minute. Bunch of ’em. The organs should heal. He shrugged. Time will tell.

I was transferred to a room and never saw him again. I urinated blood for several days, and every joint in my body turned black and blue from the internal bleeding, which I later learned was normal.

The question is, in that great moment of trauma, why did my thoughts immediately go to a theology I’d never been taught? There was no debate or fancy Greek words, just death and pending judgment. I never doubted my salvation. I never doubted I’d be seeing Christ in four hours if the doctor was right. But I knew I wouldn’t walk into that throne room with my head held high. I wouldn’t enter in confidence, as it says in Hebrews.

Why not? Because I’d lived a polite, American Christian life. There was no passion to rescue the lost from hell; no passion to stand for justice for the oppressed; no passion to serve the needy. I did not pick up my cross daily to serve Christ. Instead I’d done what other people said I should do. I tithed 10 percent out of obligation, did daily devotions, and went to church on Sunday as long as there wasn’t something better going on (sometimes the surfing was good). I even attended weekly Bible studies, which was what the really polite American Christians did in the world of which I was a part.

Christian life had been duty without passion, resisting sin without the hatred of it, performing works without love. I was not overcome with gratitude that Jesus was crucified because of my sin; therefore I didn’t cry out daily, Father, let Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. I was a nice Christian, and nice Christians don’t get rewards in heaven because they don’t win battles. They don’t win battles because they aren’t even fighting.

But I didn’t answer my own question. Why did my thoughts go to a theology I’d never been taught? Because I had been taught it, but not by a person. The Holy Spirit had been teaching it to me since I dedicated myself to reading Scripture. He is the great teacher—no one else. When facing death, I wasn’t thinking of the teaching of Dr. So-and-So, or Pastor What’s-His-Name. God’s Spirit was making it clear: You’re going to get another chance. Don’t miss it. I don’t care what Dr. So-and-So says—I care what I say. I told you everything I wanted you to know in My Word, and it clearly says that you will be judged for what you did with the gift of life and salvation I gave you.

Ephesians 2:8–9 says, For you are saved by grace through faith, and this is not from yourselves; it is God’s gift—not from works, so that no one can boast. That couldn’t be simpler or clearer. Even our faith isn’t from us. God had to give us the ability to believe in Him. There is nothing about our salvation in which we can take even the least bit of pride. Until that day in the hospital, though, my theology had stopped there, as it does for many people. But while lying on that gurney, the reality of the next verse came crashing through and I was never the same.

Ephesians 2:10 says, For we are His creation, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared ahead of time so that we should walk in them. Why were we created? For good works. Not good works that lead to our salvation, but good works after our salvation. Before our salvation we were dead. Dead people don’t do good works. But when God gave us the gift of faith, allowing us to become alive in Him through His grace, it enabled us to start the reason for our very creation—good works.

But notice the next part of the verse.